Page 13 of Risk It All
“Done!” Molly smacked her palms on the table, and Cara laughed at her sister’s enthusiasm, feeling almost giddy with relief. “First thing tomorrow, I’m going to go chat with my favorite cop to see if she knows anything helpful while you and Norah figure out who’s doing what researchwise.”
Cara nodded, feeling herself settling back into her comfortable role. She was glad she’d done it, though, if only to prove to herself that she really,reallyhated fieldwork.
“Now go get some sleep,” Molly commanded, her big-sister bossiness softened by a tiny smirk.
“I’ve got a paper to finish first.” The words ended on a groan as Cara pushed to her feet, her body protesting any movement.
“Are you hurt?” Molly’s too-sharp gaze ran over her, even after Cara waved a casual hand to dismiss her sister’s concern.
“Just tired.” She might’ve come clean about everything else, but Molly didn’t need to know about the incident in the parking lot. Since no one at Dutch’s—except Henry Kavenski—had known she was after a skip, there was no reason for someone to purposefully try to take her out. The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that it had been some random drunken bar patron rather than anyone who had a personal grudge against her.
It wasn’t like she’d been intentionally targeted. It had just been a case of bad luck and being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The good thing was that Kavenski had been in the right place at the right time, and that he’d taken the very right action when he’d noticed she was in danger. It wasn’t something that she’d expected a murderer to do. Every time they’d run into each other, he’d done something to surprise her in the best of ways.
“Cara? You with me?” Molly’s voice was loud enough to make Cara realize her sister must’ve been trying to get her attention for a while.
“Sorry.” She gave a sheepish smile. “I’m beat. I might have to skip finishing that paper tonight and just get up early tomorrow.” With a grimace, she amended her words. “Earlier. Way too early. A ridiculous amount of early.”
“At least Fifi’s not here to force us to do morning boot camp,” Molly offered. “So you’ll have that extra time.”
“True.” That was a slight comfort. “Good night, Moo.”
A wadded-up sticky note bounced off Cara’s forehead, and she couldn’t hold back a grin.
“Good night, Cara.” Despite the innocuous words, Molly’s tone threatened retribution for the use of her hated nickname.
As Cara walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs, she did her best not to favor her knee, but she had a feeling that Molly saw more than she let on. As she passed the tiny space that Norah claimed as a bedroom, Cara knocked and stuck her head inside.
Norah was tucked into a small corner of the bed, the only spot that Warrant hadn’t completely taken over. She looked fully engrossed in whatever was on her computer. The only response she gave Cara’s knock was a questioning grunt, eyes never leaving the screen.
“Don’t stay up too late,” Cara said, knowing full well that her suggestion would be ignored. Once Norah had settled into her researching groove, she didn’t give up until she’d found what she was looking for—and usually a whole lot more. Still, Cara had to try. “I’ll jump in on research in the morning, so leave something for me to do.”
When Norah finally glanced up at that, Cara gave a smile to let her sister know she was kidding—although not about the go-to-bed part. “There is an obnoxiously high number of ways to spell ‘Layla,’” Norah said, making Cara laugh.
“I’ll help you come up with even more options in the morning.”
“Thanks.” Norah’s tone was dry.
“Always happy to help.” Cara tried to imitate Molly’s sternest scowl. “Now get some sleep.”
“I will.” Despite the promise, Norah seemed to be wrapped up again in her search, and Cara withdrew from the room, closing the door behind her.
Yawning so widely that her jaw popped and her eyes watered, she headed for the bathroom. She might long for bed, but there was no way she could rest without taking a shower and washing off the day. Not only did she still smell like the inside of a bar, but she’d gotten up close and personal with the parking lot outside Dutch’s. Who knew what kind of disgusting things had been dumped, tossed, or leaked onto that asphalt? The possibilities made her gag a little.
Despite her roll in the goo, however, the day had ended on a positive note. She was back on research duty, she didn’t have to hide anything from her sisters anymore, and Henry Kavenski had saved her life. She couldn’t hold back the tiniest amazed laugh.
When had her life gotten so exciting—and so stinking weird?
Chapter 4
Cara hurried down the steps, letting herself be swept up in the crowd as students left their classrooms. The last thing she wanted was to run into creepy Stuart in an empty hallway again. Once she reached the main level and followed the people surging out into the autumn sunlight, she couldn’t help but slow her steps and enjoy the warmth beaming down on her. The old building held the chill of early morning, and her classroom had been about the temperature of a walk-in cooler, so it was a treat to feel the sun finally defrost her fingers and the tip of her nose.
As she crossed campus, the crowd dwindled, clearing the pathway enough that Cara could take her focus off the people around her. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes for a second, the sunlight making the insides of her lids glow red. Even though she’d woken up disgustingly early, she was still in an optimistic mood. She’d finished her paper, emailed it to her professor, and even had time to eat breakfast with Norah and Molly before her first class. They’d divided up the research, and Cara had a lovely, tidy to-do list, which made her content. The beautiful, sunny weather was just the cherry on an already pretty good day.
Then someone grasped her arm, jerking her to a halt, and she swung around, automatically trying to yank away even before the identity of her grabber registered.
“Don’t touch me, Stuart.” Her voice was sharp, and she hoped he hadn’t heard the slight tremble underlying her words. It was caused by anger, not fear, but from the way Stuart smirked, he not only heard the quaver, but thought it was because he intimidated her. He also didn’t release his grip. “Let. Go.”
Grabbing his index finger, she yanked it up and back, not releasing him until he yelped and pulled away, leaving pink imprints on her arm where his hand had been. “Ow! Bitch!”
